


Wrong Person

by Curstaidh_MacIntyre



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 03:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curstaidh_MacIntyre/pseuds/Curstaidh_MacIntyre
Summary: Gathering FiKi - Spring FRE 2019Prompt #16Character A (Ross) accidentally sends a booty call text to character B (Jim) (his HUGE and very straight crush) and is now terrified waiting for an answer (bonus points if they end up doing something very hot).-----TBC - This was planned as a oneshot, so the continuation of this has to be planned before any updates will be posted.





	Wrong Person

Demelza flops onto a couch that has certainly seen better days and groans. “Thank Illuvatar that this week is over.”

“You can say that again,” Ross says as he joins her. He kicks his bare feet onto the scarred coffee table in the middle of the room.

Demelza grunts and opens her bottle of beer. “So, how’s your week been beyond that fact that it’s been bad?”

Ross closes his eyes and groans. “Painful.”

“How so?” Demelza toes her sneakers off.

“Work’s been a bitch,” Ross says as he picks at the label on his beer. “I mean, it’s always a bitch. I really hate office work, but my father’s mine isn’t doing well, which just makes everything that much worse.”

“That sounds like a pretty standard week to me,” Demelza teases.

Ross rolls his eyes. “I also made a fool of myself again in front of  _ him _ .”

Demelza’s eyes go wide, “You haven’t dealt with that yet?”

“No,” Ross says petulantly. “He’s as straight as an arrow, Demi. There’s no real way to deal with it.” He frowns. “Can we talk about something else?”

Demelza purses her lips. “Only if you tell me how you embarrassed yourself.”

Ross scowls; his face going dark. “It’s not funny.”

“Okay,” Demelza nodes compliantly. 

Ross’ scowl deepens, but when Demelza shows no sign of relenting he gives in, “I may have accidentally gotten a boner at crew practice this week.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad. Surely they’re not  _ that _ noticeable.”

Ross’ cheeks and the tip of his nose go a bit pink. “It would normally be fine. But I was wearing compression shorts—

In response to Demelza incredulous look, “It was hot!—

“And Thomas didn’t show; so I was stroke seat.” By now even the tops of his ears have gone pink.

“I see the problem,” Demelza attempts to suppress her smile.

Ross frowns. “There, I told you. Can we talk about something else now? How’s your love life?”

Demelza laughs, “A fair sight better than yours. I’ve got a date tomorrow afternoon.”

“Fantastic,” Ross says sarcastically. “Have you seen that new vampire movie trailer?”

“Ross, you’ve known me since high school,” Demelza rolls her eyes. “Of course I have. I’ve watched it nearly 30 times and I’ve memorized my favorite bits. I even have some theories that I can share with you.”

Ross looks like he’s in pain. “Please, no.” 

“What? Don’t you like my theories?” Demelza’s smile is just a little wicked.

“Not particularly. I don’t watch movies looking for couples who aren’t couples, and then going online to share them with other demented weirdos.”

Demelza shoves him with her foot. “Take it back. I know you were thinking the same thing about Draco and Hermione.”

“No.”

“No. I clearly remember you helping me write fanfiction when I’d stay the night.”

“Fine. I’ll take the first part back. But you’re still demented, and you’re still a weirdo.”

“Those two are givens with a family like mine,” Demelza laughs. “My father wouldn’t let me have anyone over. The only way I got to stay at your house was by lying to him and saying that I was staying with my cousins.  _ And _ that was always a gamble. They could have sold me out at any second. My only friends were you, Garrick, and all the other people like me on the internet.”

Ross’ annoyances softens. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Demelza takes a drink. “I know all your dirty secrets from high school. You seem to forget that I’ve read all of  _ your  _ fan fiction.”

Ross bursts out laughing, “Oh, dear lord, don’t remind me. I hope those no longer exist, they must have been incredibly painful to read!”

“They were, but I was always able to figure out who you were currently crushing on.”

Ross rolls his eyes, “I highly doubt that.”

“Wanna bet?” Demelza’s eyes sparkle wickedly.

“One beer for the loser,” Ross challenges.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

 

***

 

Almost an hour later, Ross is getting closer and closer to very drunk. It turned out that Demelza had saved all of his ill-gotten stories. And they were all dated. He was losing; badly.

“When you wrote this one about Chandler in  _ Friends _ you were all about that nerdy kid from freshman AP Algebra.”

“Goddamn,” Ross swears. He picks up his bottle; his hands shake and his aim is off. He almost misses his mouth.

“I think that’s all of them,” Demelza says from her position slouched deeply in the armchair with her feet on the coffee table.

“I  _ cannot _ believe that you remember all of my high school drama,” Ross mumbles as he stretches out on the couch. He yawns.

“Mmm.” Tauriel hums.

The two sit in companionable silence for a bit. Ross starts drifting off to sleep, but he tries to keep his eyes open with some success.

“I know what you should do!” Demelza says suddenly.

“Hm?” Ross lifts his head.

“Do you remember Joe from ROTC?”

Ross nods. “Yeah, we watch football together sometimes. Why?”

“He always did like you.”

Ross frowns. 

“I think you might need someone else to get you out of this funk.”

“Demelza.” Ross struggles into a upright position before continuing. “That’s not who I am. You know that.”

“I do know that. But you haven’t been mooning over a straight guy for this long since Wally sophmore year. I think you need something a bit more extreme than just time.”

Ross sighs. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

“He’ll probably say no.”

Demelza rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a negative Nelly! It doesn’t hurt to ask. Even if he says no now, he may change his mind in a few days or weeks. And that will still help your little problem.”

Ross huffs, but pulls out his phone. He taps out a message.

 

A reply comes almost immediately.  

Ross shows his phone to Demelza and they quickly debate how Ross should respond. 

Ross pulls a face that he hopes is the right level of flirtatious and joking and takes a photo. He wants to be able to play the whole thing off as a joke if he is turned down. He selects “share image” and adds a message. 

This time the response does not come as quickly. After several minutes Ross pockets his phone. “See? He’s probably not interested anymore and now I’ll have to live down the teasing I’ll get when we next watch the football game.”

Before Demelza can respond Ross’ phone chirps. He opens the message and freezes. “Fuck.” His cheeks blaze red.

“What?” When Ross does not respond Demelza moves over to sit next to him on the couch. They both speak at the same time.

“That’s not Joe.”

“It’s not Joe. Fuck.” Ross stares at the screen. 

Demelza looks at the top of the screen and then at Ross’ face. “Who’s Jim?”

“The coxswain,” Ross says dully; not taking his eyes off his phone.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Ross still has not looked away from the screen. 

The message was followed by a picture that was taken from a high angle and it included everything from the bottom of Jim’s face to the top of his towel. He had clearly just finished taking a shower. Water droplets still clung to his chest hair. Jim’s free hand was holding the towel up, but it was so low that it  _ almost _ fails to hide anything at all. 

Ross swallows forcefully. “I’m not sure…” he starts. “I’m not sure how to respond.” 

Jim’s lips are quirked in a smile, and the picture is clearly provocative—Ross still cannot stop staring. But all of this conflicts with what he knows about Jim. Jim who’s always rushing home to his girlfriend Abby. Jim whose eyes never linger on guys’ asses as they walk past. Jim who always goes out of his way to flirt with the waitress. Jim who holds the door open for any woman in sight.

Demelza just watches Ross’ face. She’s not sure what to tell him. 

“I think it’s a joke,” Ross says regretfully. He knows Jim and it  _ has  _ to be a joke even though he wishes it was not. He practically holds his breath as he responds.

Ross tucks his phone back into his pocket and breathes a sign. “Well, that was fun. Let’s not do that again.”

“What? You’re not going to send that picture to the right person?” Demelza’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

“Shame.” Demelza bounces up. “How about a film?”

Ross slumps into a more horizontal position on the couch. “I can guarantee you that I’ll fall asleep if we try to watch one.”

Demelza shrugs and walks over to the bookshelf to look over their collective tv and movie collection. She’s just come back with a few in her hands when Ross’ phone chirps again. A wave of adrenaline rushes through his body. He almost does not want to open the message, because he is not sure what it will be. Jim could just be admonishing him for drinking during racing season, or it could be something else. All options make Ross more than a little nervous to open the new message. He takes a deep breath.

Demelza sits down beside Ross and tucks her legs up. “This is better than a movie.” 

Ross hears her, but it feels like her voice is coming from a much greater distance than a few feet. His blood is pounding in his ears and he feels like time has stopped for a moment.

The response is almost instant this time.

Demelza smirks. “I’ll take that as my clue that I should watch a movie in my bedroom.”

Ross looks at her; his face is frozen between excitement and horror. He is not sure how to feel. His fingers still hover over the keyboard. A small part of his mind is contemplating sending another message that will keep Jim at his apartment.

Demelza laughs as his expression. “It’ll be okay, lover boy. I want details in the morning,” her voice is full of implications. She then disappears up the stairs with her movies, a couple of beers, and a bag of chips.

Ross rouses himself, “Hey!”

“What?” Demelza’s head appears around the corner. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do it.” Her smile borders on evil.

No, its not that,” Ross rolls his eyes dramatically. “What do I do until he gets here?”

Demelza snorts. “You’re asking me?” She then pauses to consider so she can give a more empathetic response. “You could always straighten your room just in case you have any dirty underpants laying on the floor. Make your bed. If that’s all good you could just straighten up the living room.” Her head disappears, but quickly reappears, “Oh. And brush your teeth.” And she is gone. 

Ross keeps his room pretty straight. He is not concerned about that. So, he busies himself with cleaning up the beer bottles in the living room. This is easier than it sounds, because he is not entirely steady on his feet. While he does this he compulsively checks his phone for the time, but he is still surprised when there is a knock at the door. A now familiar flood of adrenaline and apprehension rushes down his spine. He fidgets and straightens his t-shirt for a moment.

“Hi,” Ross says when he opens the door.

“Hey,” Jim smiles. His blonde hair is still damp and curling gently as it dries. Ross stares. Jim’s smile deepens. “Are you going to let me in?” Jim ask after the pause has stretched on far longer than it should have. 

“How are you?” Ross asks; he is at a loss of what to say.

Jim moves in close. His face is only inches away from Ross’. “Do you really want to exchange small talk?”

Blood rushes in his ears again and he feels like he cannot breathe. He swallows. “No.”

“Good.” Jim closes the distance between them quickly. When their lips meet Ross feels instantly much more sober. His hands move to Jim’s hips as Jim maneuvers them against the well. He pins Ross there; one hand winding its way into Ross’s dark curls and the other pulling Ross closer. His fingers are vices pulling Ross to him. Ross groans when their tongues meet. 

Ross whines when Jim pulls away. “Was that message really an accident.”

Ross has to catch his breath before he can respond. “Yeah,” he breaths. “Because, you’re … you know,” he hedges.

“No, I don’t know.” Jim’s grip lessens as he pulls away.

“You’re … you know … straight.” Ross says slowly not meeting Jim’s steady gaze.

Jim snorts. “What gave you that idea?”

“... Abby. You always have to rush home after practice to see her.”

Jim laughs. 

“What?” Ross asks saltily. 

“Abby’s my cat. And she’s got issues,” Jim smiles softly. “Is that all?”

Ross’ ears have gone pink. He nods.

“Good. Because I’ve wanted to do this for months. It’s all I could think about during Monday’s practice,” Jim’s fingers wrap themselves in Ross’ hair when he pulls Ross’ head down so their lips meet again. He sighs.

As the kiss deepens Ross starts to fumble with the buttons on Jim’s flannel, something he’s not all that adepts with even when perfectly sober. Jim takes Ross’ hands in his own. “Why don’t we take this someplace else if we’re going to do this.”

The two make their way upstairs. Jim following Ross into the room. “I’ll get the light,” Ross mumbles. He slowly feels his way across the room so he can turn on the lamp rather than the way-too-bright overhead. When he turns around he freezes and his mouth goes dry. Jim is right behind him and he has removed his shirt. He tight jeans ride low on his hips revealing the waistband of his underwear. 

“Shirt off, Poldark.”

Ross stumbles in his rush to comply. 

They join again. Jim kisses Ross’ neck as he walks them back to the bed. Once one the bed Jim pushes Ross into the mattress; both reveling in the feel of skin against skin. Ross hooks his feet around Jim’s calves and thrusts upward seeking more contact. Jim pulls back from the kiss; Ross follows Jim because he is loathe to reduce their points of contact by one. Ross shudders in pleasure when Jim’s finger brush his abdomen on their journey downwards. They pause when the reach the button of Ross’ jeans.

Jim looks down and then back up to meet Ross’ eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Ross’ answer is closer to groan than to a word, “Yes.” 

The following kiss is fierce. It is full of teeth and clashing tongues. Jim pops the button on Ross’ jeans and his hands continue their exploration of Ross’ body.


End file.
